For The Best
by NeverUnderestimateWords
Summary: Bucky didn't know what to do. Well, he did but he desperately didn't want to, but it would help other's. So Bucky, being the noble one hundred-year old man he was, agreed to the cryo tank.


**Okay, so I've watched Black Panther like five times and now I want to write what happened before Bucky went into the cryo tank. I might write another of him coming out of the cryo tank but it depends. Enjoy!**

 **All rights are owned by Marvel, since I clearly am not Stan Lee. Sighs.**

* * *

He needed to sign the piece of paper to finalize that this he was doing this of his own free will. The only problem was he wasn't sure if he wanted it or if he just knew this was what needed to be done.

Bucky sat at the oak table, rolling the pen between his thumb and pointer finger. He could feel Steve's anxious eyes upon him, which were trying to tell him to instead rip the paper in two. The paper that would state he was ready to go into a cryostasis tank tomorrow. The paper that would separate him from his best friend. The paper that would keep him from hurting anyone.

He hadn't wrote anything for a long time yet he still could remember what he learned from his childhood teacher, Ms. Andrews, on how to write. These sudden realizations of how old he was and how far away his childhood were extremely unwelcome.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked hesitantly, he leaned closer to Bucky from over the table. "Buck, we can keep anyone from abusing you, you don't have to do this."

Without pausing, Bucky finished his signature, with the tiniest bit of trouble without having his left hand to steady the paper. "I don't want to take a chance, Steve." He glanced up to see the blond man's blue eyes pleading with him. Gosh, it hurt. He didn't want to hurt Steve but at the same time there was no way he would let himself be used again.

Noticing the resolution, Steve smiled, a slightly pained one but he tried. "You're a good man. I don't know if I could make the same decision."

That, Bucky knew, was a lie. Steve would also do anything to protect the world. Somehow, they had both maintained their selfless streaks through all of the years.

A gentle knock interrupted his thoughts. This was T'Challa's own home, yet he was kind enough to not startle him.

"Sergeant Barnes, have you completed the papers?" The king's rich voice filled the small, yet classy, business room. "My assistant can take it when you are for sure ready."

Not trusting his voice, Bucky nodded, handing the documents over to a thin young man dressed immaculately in mauve.

Mother would have loved to wear clothes of the likes of the Wakandan people, Bucky thought sadly.

"Do you both care to take a stroll with me?" T'Challa asked, politely though he could have just ordered them to do so.

Following the royalty, Steve and Bucky walked close together. It was strange, this past day of being near one another had been wonderful, almost care-free yet there were a few unspoken things. Things that were too tender to be mentioned at the moment.

Since even just yesterday they were fighting against Tony in a Hydra base. Just this morning they had arrived in Wakanda after wandering in the skies for a night. Just two hours ago he had his metal arm amputated and been given this idea.

"I would like both of you to know that only the most trusted know of your arrival and even few about this decision," T'Challa explained, leading them down clean yet homey halls with views of the outside.

Bucky hadn't seen so much greenery since his time in Germany in the forties, well that he could remember, the thought which he stuffed away.

"While you're in the cryo tank, Steve will have control of any movements of the pod," he continued, in his rich timbre.

Exchanging a confused glance, Steve and Bucky opened their mouths at the same time but Steve closed his to let his friend do the talking.

"What do you mean?" Bucky asked. "Why would I be moved? If the United Nations too me me Steve would be given no rights over me. Well my body."

Gently, T'Challa smiled, pausing by a large glass wall looking upon a willow tree surrounded with flowers. "In case, you're Avengers make up with one another."

The bombshell left both men stuttering. Apparently the unspoken thing was now going to be spoken.

"It'll never-" Steve began and Bucky heard himself say something along the lines that Tony hated his very being.

Holding up a hand, T'Challa smiled. He was very at ease in his Wakandan home, very different from his threats in Europe. "Tony hates the Winter Soldier, yet you are not that person, Sergeant. Besides, the world may need you to fight battles they cannot."

"I am the Winter Soldier, though," Bucky frowned, touching the cool glass. It was so serene here, he felt like he was breaking it by just existing.

"You had no control. You are a victim. You are forgiven. It is hard to differentiate between the Winter Soldier and Sergeant Barnes for you have the same face but you're characters are opposites. I will repeat such things until you realize who you truly are," T'Challa finished.

In another life, perhaps he was one of those consular people, Bucky thought, pulling his hand away. There was dew on his human fingers. He used to have blood in his hands but now he had dew. He was changing.

But you killed all of those people, an accusing voice whispered, clutching him for its own. You're only a monster. How can one man be two things? You are only one thing, a monster. Without thinking, Bucky rubbed at his metallic nub.

Noticing his pained expression, Steve patted his forearm.

"He's right. You're a good guy, Buck. Would I be friends with anything less?" Steve said softly.

"I'm feeling like you're both ganging up on me. I thought you were on my side," Bucky looked from the king to the super soldier, two men that he was very glad to know.

Chuckling, T'Challa responded, "I'm on the side of the right and so I suppose I'm with you on the same side."

"So you just always say those kinds of inspirational lines?" The dark haired man laughed, hoping to keep them from speaking of his goodness. It felt false, because they didn't know all of the things he had done. "Does everyone do that kind of thing in the future?"

"You mean in the twenty-first century?" T'Challa quirked a perfect eyebrow upward to which both soldiers nodded. "No, I guess it's just me being a king. I have to have lines like those at the ready for any moment."

After laughing a bit more, moments which Bucky knew he would treasure, T'Challa was called away by his mother who greeted both of them kindly.

"Make yourselves at home and don't feel worried to ask anyone in this area for help for this area is filled with the most trusted of the highest personnel," he said in his warm Wakandan accent, giving them a final goodbye.

Both of the century old men just stood there for a minute, taking in the scenery. It truly was gorgeous, so different from the concrete of old Brooklyn and bricks of Hydra bases. There were no suggestions of war or death in the gardens, just ageless flowers and trees, a bubbling waterfall and intricate paths.

"Steve," Bucky began, "what if they don't find a solution?" It was a quiet admission, something he would only ever say to his dear friend. "What if I'm doomed to be in there forever? I refuse to step out of that pod before I'm all fixed."

Sighing, Steve leaned against the glass. "I don't know but I doubt that they won't. There's so much technology that we could never have dreamed of. And though I'll want to, I want wake you up until there is assuredly a cure. I swear."

There was a pause before he responded, "I'm sorry I'm making you do this." It was one of Bucky's sorrows to make Steve do something that would hurt him.

Thankfully the latter just smiled. "I'm more worried about you, you butt."

"I'm the one who should be worrying, without me you'll do some crazy stunt like jump out of an airplane," Bucky joked with a smirk, knowing that though Steve was an idiot, he also had some respect for his own well-being.

Nervously, Steve laughed but it sounded forced.

The brunet paused. "Wait, have you jumped out of a plane? And don't you lie, I know you, Rogers." Like that, it was almost as if the two men were back in the forties arguing over Steve's reckless habits. Because Bucky remembered, Steve had a negative amount of respect for his life. He'd probably leapt out of an airplane twice.

"How many times?" Bucky scolded, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

They both began to walk down the hall, occasionally passing a person, who gave them curious looks. It wasn't everyday you met a pair of one hundred year olds ratting one another out so vehemently.

Scoffing, Steve shot back, "Like you wouldn't if it was necessary. You're just as bad, if not worse."

"How many times?" he repeated, adding on, "Besides, you were the one who would beat up anyone within a mile of you for saying something the least bit rude and you were the size of a dying puppy back then."

"Five," Steve said, thankfully showing a bit of shame by bowing his head. Nevermind, Bucky thought as Steve popped his head back up with glowing eyes to state, "But what was I to do with no parachute? Let the rest have so much fun without me kicking Hydra's butt."

"Why did they have parachutes and you didn't?" Bucky smirked, gladly taking on the mantle of being Steve's judgmental big brother after so many years of hiatus. "Something doesn't add up, Stevie." Gently, he shoved Steve's shoulder one handedly.

Raising an eyebrow, Steve mouthed off, "Why was I ever upset at having you go under cryostasis? Give me one good reason."

"You'll have to do foolish stunts alone," Bucky continued and the rest of the night was filled with the same type of banter. It was incredible and lively, yet it would be so much more fun if there wasn't a pit of nerves growing at every second. He was going to go under and leave Steve behind, again.

* * *

It was stupid, Bucky thought to be so worked up, but he couldn't stop his flesh hand from shaking no matter what he did or thought of. Halfway to the lab the next morning, Steve must have noticed and patted him on the back. At least, I always have you, Bucky smiled at his internal monologue. Even though I was alone for so many years, killing innocents. He frowned.

"You can always turn back," Steve advised, but Bucky just shook his head. "We could protect you. You know how strong the Wakandans are.."

"But I'll be protecting everyone if I do this. Please, Steve," pleaded Bucky, needing to have Steve's support. He needed him to be solid one right now, because he couldn't. It would be so easy to say no but the glimpses of memories of the murders he had committed flashed through his mind, propelling him forward.

Of course, Steve promptly apologized. "Let's do this." Opening the door to the scientific and medicinal division, Steve ushered Bucky in first.

It was surprisingly unlike entering a hospital or a lab, more like a home but with a lot of technology. There were a only a handful of men and women all dressed in clean white lab coats rushed this way and that against the pale yellow walls and windows that looked upon different experiments. The further in they went, the less people they saw but near the front of the area and the back, all looked upon the duo with reverence.

It gave Bucky a weird bubbly feeling of pride. Then he remembered all of the crap he'd done. Why was anyone looking at him with anything beside disgust was beyond him.

Stopping in front of a door clearly labelled **Cryogenics** , Bucky took in a shaky breath. Reaching out with both arms, he winced after it hit him. He didn't have a left arm, well darn. Thankfully, Steve didn't give him a pitying look or tried to help him, which eased his, well, disease.

They entered another pale yellow room, yet this one was lined with mostly windows. As they stepped in, the entire team turned at attention to them.

"Welcome," a petite woman with silver-brown curls smiled. "I am Doctor Dembe, head of cryogenics team here in Wakanda. Sergeant Barnes, do you have any questions or concerns before we begin?" She turned her amber eyes to him. "Or if there is anything we could do to make you more comfortable."

Clearing his throat, Bucky shifted from foot to foot, thinking but he was coming up dry.

"Excuse me, but I have one," Steve said politely. "Will he age in the cryo pod?"

It was a valid question, one Bucky hadn't thought of, so he was grateful that Steve did.

Affirming the question with a nod, Dembe explained, "It depends upon what percentages of air we place in the cryostasis tank. You could either remain unaged, you could age slowly, or age at the same pace as time would change you. The choice is up to you. Thank you for bringing that up, Captain."

He didn't need a moment to think. "If I could age normally, that would be nice. Thank you." That way I'll be able to step out the same age as Steve, he mentally added.

Time felt as if it were speeding up for suddenly all of the information had been gone over and he had been given the proper cryo outfit. Soon, Bucky was sitting on a tall stool, as his natural vitals were taken.

"I'll be right here when you come out," Steve assured, patting his left shoulder. "I'll have them inform me beforehand so I'll be there, I promise."

"Thanks," Bucky muttered his voice dry, wondering if he would dream in the pod, more accurately if he would have nightmares.

Glancing at a panel, Bucky discerned that it was reading that his heart was racing, at least that's what he believed it was telling.

Steve tilted his head, while inquiring. "Sure about this?"

"I can't trust my own mind. So until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think going back under is the best thing for everybody," Bucky sighed, as the last vial of blood was drawn.

He didn't say goodbye on purpose, stepping into the pod. Goodbye was too final, too much like he wouldn't see Steve again. All he gave was a weak smile, as the glass covered his body. His heart thumped wildly. He closed his eyes.

* * *

 **So... what did you think? Please drop a comment on who you think will be next or one of your favorite line's or part's. Encouragement is wonderful and makes writing easier. If you have criticism, make it actually constructive and not just a flame. Thank you.**


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